“In your dreams, my friend.”
“You don’t want to know about my dreams. Trust me on that.”
I pulled my gaze away from his, unsure whether the sudden erratic beat of my heart was excitement or fear. A whole lot of me was praying for fear, because that was the sensible reaction in this situation.
Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of sensible around at the moment.
The car hit a bump and jumped into the air. I did the same, yelping as my head hit the roof before the car and I crashed back down.
“You really might want to put on your seat belt,” he said. “This is going to get a lot rougher before it’s over.”
I looked out the windshield, saw that we were approaching a forest where the trees were all big and sturdy and impassable looking, and quickly pulled on the belt, as advised. “I really need to know that you have a plan right now.”
Especially seeing that the gap between those trunks didn’t seem to be getting a whole lot wider. I braced myself against the car and resisted the urge to squeeze my eyes shut.
“I do have a plan,” he said, voice calm and still touched by warm amusement. “Which is not to say you’re going to like it.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He didn’t answer, and I couldn’t really be unhappy about that. The tiniest loss in concentration on his part could easily send us splattering across the trunks we were approaching way too fast.
One thing was becoming obvious, though. This man and sanity weren’t exactly chummy.
He was driving us full bore at a forest. My heart began beating so hard I swore it was going to leap out of my chest, and the sweat trickling down my spine almost became a torrent. Part of me wanted to grab the wheel, the hand brake, do something that might divert or stop the car. Truth was, though, we were going far too fast and were far too close now to prevent the inevitable. I gave in to the desire to squeeze my eyes shut and hoped like hell I lived long enough to beat the crap out of the crazy man behind the wheel.
Only the crash didn’t happen. Instead, the surrounding light grew dim, as if someone had suddenly swallowed the sun. I forced an eyelid open, saw the trunks and shadows and branches slashing past, impossibly close, and promptly shut it again.
Better not to know.
“How far behind us is that cop car?” he asked.
The sudden sound of his voice had me jumping. I sucked in a breath that did nothing to ease the pounding of my heart, then twisted around. Through the green shadows and trees, lights flashed. They didn’t seem to be going as fast as us, because they were certainly a lot farther behind than they had been before we entered this forest. But then, I guess not everyone became a crazy person behind the wheel like Trae apparently did.
“They’d have to be a good ten or so car lengths behind.”
“It’ll have to be enough,” he muttered.
“Enough for what?” I asked, more than a little alarmed.
“Escape.” He glanced at me briefly. “What else would I be talking about?”
Who knew? With this man, it could have been anything.
I looked ahead. Though we were still surrounded by shadows and trees that zipped by at gut-wrenching speed, up ahead sunlight danced. It lifted my spirits a little, even though I suspected Trae’s surprises were not done with yet.
A point he proved by slamming a foot on the brake. I screamed as the car slewed sideways and shut my eyes, waiting for the inevitable crash. Which didn’t happen. The car came to a halt, rocking gently from side to side.
“Out,” Trae ordered. “Quickly.”
He flung his own door open, grabbed a backpack from the backseat, then ran around the front of the car.
I hadn’t moved. Fear—and disbelief—had me glued to the spot.
“Out, Destiny, unless you want to be caught by the cops.”
He grabbed my hand, half pulling, half assisting me out of the car.
“You’re a maniac,” I said, as he kept hold of my hand and forced me into a run.